Marriage Material
by silvercage
Summary: Tension between the PLANTS and the nations of Earth is growing and the cries for war are growing louder. Desperate to keep the peace, two politicians decide to make their teenage children marry.
1. Chapter One: My Life is Over!

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter One: My Life is Over!

Tension between the PLANTS and the nations of Earth is growing. Everywhere, there are whispers of a looming war. Despite lengthy negotiations and summits, the Naturals and Coordinators are growing farther and farther apart. Fredrick Haww is the governor of Heliopolis, and he has come up with a way to keep peace between Orb and the PLANTS. It involves his seventeen-year-old daughter, Miriallia.

"I cannot believe this!" Miriallia practically screamed into the telephone. She could still hear her father banging on the locked door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. He was trying to reason with her. Fat chance. Fredrick Haww had called his daughter into the sitting room of their mansion minutes before to break "the news" to her. After hearing it, Miriallia did what any self-respecting teenage girl would do: she screamed, stomped up the stairs, and promptly slammed the door with an earsplitting bang.

"Calm down, Mir," Cagalli cooed on the other end of the line. "He can't be serious; you're only seventeen!"

"He's not joking!" Miriallia shrieked at her best friend. "Married. Me. I'm getting married, to some stuck up, arrogant, pig headed…bastard!" Miriallia shouted into the phone. She was on the verge of tears.

"Is he really that bad?" Cagalli asked.

"He's a Coordinator, of course he is!"

"Have you met him?" Silence, peaceful, blissful silence greeted Cagalli's ears. "You've never met him and you are writing him off as some stuck up asshole already?"

"Why aren't you on my side," Miriallia asked, her voice cracking.

"Miri, don't be silly, of course I'm on your side. But you shouldn't start making judgments about people before you meet them. And you shouldn't really say that kind of stuff about Coordinators. After all, our fathers are working hard to keep peaceful relations with them." Mir bit her lip. "I have an idea," Cagalli announced, her voice perking up considerably. "What is his name? Kira moved back to the PLANTS a few months ago. Maybe he knows the guy."

"I…don't know his name. I didn't ask. But Cagalli, he's going to be jerk, I can feel it." Miriallia threw herself down on her bed. "This is so medieval times. Shipping off the daughter to marry some guy in another country to try to keep the peace. I'm going to have to move to PLANTS, Cagalli, PLANTS! It was bad enough moving from Orb to Heliopolis, but now I have to go to the other side of the universe to live with a race of people who will hate me because I'm not like them."

"Don't worry Mir," Cagalli tried to sound reassuring, "PLANTS is only on the other side of the Earth, not the universe."

"That's not the point, Cagalli! The point is I am being forced into an arranged marriage with some guy that I have never met! This is so unfair!"

"Mir, you aren't doing anyone any good by upsetting yourself like this. You need to pull yourself together and we will come up with a plan to get you out of this. When is the wedding day?"

Mir let out a sigh and threw her head against a pillow. "It hasn't been decided yet," she answered in a small voice. "My parents want me to spend a while in the PLANTS getting to know the guy, and then I'm supposed to come back and help plan the wedding. My shuttle leaves tomorrow."

"And your 'rents just broke the news to you now? Bummer. Call me as soon as you can once you land. I'll try to arrange to come visit you, and we can start to work out a strategy."

A bleary, puffy-eyed Miriallia grudgingly made her way onto the private shuttle at six-forty five the next morning. She had tried every trick she had ever known to get her way. She had complained, pleaded, swore, cried, threatened to harm herself, and even reached back so far as to throw a temper tantrum. In the end, her father had picked her up off the ground and locked her in the back of the limo, which drove her to the shuttle dock. People had looked at her strangely when she stomped and scuffed her feet along the floor, but Miriallia didn't care what they thought about her childish antics. As far as she was concerned, her life was over. She had finally found out the name of her "fiancé."

Dearka Elthman.

He sounded like a pig.

Miriallia threw herself into the nearest seat on the private shuttle like a sack of potatoes. Miriallia had refused to pack her things, and her father had forbid her mother and the maids from doing it for her. And so Miriallia Haww, daughter of the Governor or Heliopolis, would show up on the doorstep of Dearka Elthman's mansion sans luggage.

Marvelous.

Ten restless hours later, a much more agitated Miriallia stomped off the shuttle on one of the PLANTS. They were all the same to her.

Miriallia pushed, shoved, elbowed, and stomped on the feet of other people in the shuttle port, just to work out some frustration. She got through very quickly, not needing to pick up any luggage. If she had expected to see the (what she imagined to be) the pig-like face of Dearka Elthman, she was sadly disappointed. A driver in a stereotypical uniform stood near the front exits holding a sign that read "Miss Haww." Miriallia scowled. She was hoping that they had forgotten all about her, or that she could at least avoid the person sent to pick her up, and then she could call home in tears on her brand new cell phone that her mother had given her to try to make her feel better about the situation. And then she would go home, and things would go back to normal. But the driver was holding a picture. He examined it, and then looked up at Miriallia, and then waved her over. Plan A: failed.

Miriallia sighed. It was hard work being moody for almost two days straight. She silently trudged over to the driver, who led her out to a waiting limo. Too tired to care anymore, Miriallia crawled into the back seat and fell asleep.

Miriallia did not open her eyes when she awoke. She felt so warm and snug in her soft bed. She reached down to pull the comforter up to her chin. _That's strange,_ she thought absently, _I don't remember it being so thick…_ Miriallia slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was a cream coloured canopy above her head. She was wrapped up in the middle of a gigantic bed, all of the blankets and pillows the identical colour of off white. The room was stark and bare, with minimal furniture in it, only a small sofa, a chair, and a desk with a brand new computer perched on top. The bedroom was as big as the sitting room at her old house, which was by no means small.

Miriallia wracked her brain as hard as she could, trying to recall how she came to be in the room. But as hard as she tried, nothing came to mind.

Cautiously, Miriallia scuttled over to the side of the bed and swung her feet over the edge. She was still fully clothed (a good sign) and her socks were still on her feet, but her shoes were missing. Miriallia stood up, but fell right back when she got a head rush. After a moment or two of kneading her forehead, Mir stood up again and crossed the room. She found her shoes beside three doors. Miriallia slowly opened the first, which was an empty closet, the second, which led into a bathroom, but the third led into a wide hallway. Mir slowly inched her head out the door. The hall stretched on for a long while, with many doors spaced far apart. The floor was a soft, plush carpet that crushed under Miriallia's feet and then sprung back up like grass. At one end of the corridor, a large window allowed a great deal of sun to fall against the floor, at the other end, a spiraling staircase led downstairs.

Miriallia was just about to put a tentative foot out the door when someone tapped her shoulder. Miri let out a strangled scream and jumped about a foot in the air.

"Oh, my, I'm terribly sorry to have frightened you," a soft voice. Miriallia swung around to find a short, thin, blonde woman with a pleasant smile on her face. "I am Julie Elthman, Dearka's mother."

Miriallia was too scared to remember her manners. She asked curtly "Where am I?"

Julie let out a small laugh, before realizing that Miriallia was not joking. "You are in the Elthman mansion, of course." _Right, stupid question,_ Miriallia chided herself.

"How did I get here?" _Oh, great, I haven't even said ten words to the woman and she already thinks I'm a blundering idiot._

Julie, however, thought nothing of the sort. "Oh, you poor thing," she cooed, pulling Miriallia out of the room and leading her through the hall and down the stairs. "You must be hungry. Let's go get you some breakfast. It must have been quite a long journey for you, ten hours on the shuttle! I've ever only gone for five at the most. You were sound asleep when you arrived at the house. My husband Ted, Dearka, and I were waiting for you. Well we all trooped down the front stairs only to find you passed out on in the back seat!" Here Julie laughed in a good-natured way; Miriallia only hoped that nobody had seen up her skirt. "Anyway, darling, Dearka—oh, he's such a gentleman, I'm sure you will just _love_ him!—he didn't want to wake you, so he carried you up the stairs and tucked you into bed. It was the cutest sight!"

Miriallia perked her ears up as soon as she heard the name 'Dearka.' "Is he here?" she asked quickly.

Julie's smile faltered for a split second. "No," she answered sorrowfully, although Mir couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, "I'm afraid Dearka and Ted are both away for a short while. Ted, well he's on the Council, so he is obligated to go to all of those silly conventions and whatnot." Miriallia gave her a strange look. Julie suddenly remembered that those "silly conventions" were given by the girl's homeland.

"Ah, here's the kitchen!" Julie exclaimed, happy to change the subject. "I'm afraid that our cooks have the day off today, so we must fend for ourselves."

Julie sat Miriallia down on a chair at a scrubbed wooden table off to the side of the kitchen. It seemed that everything in the house was made on a grand scale, right down to the blender.

"Ted should be back within two days," Julie continued chatting. "I don't know about Dearka though. You can never be sure with the military."

"Military?" Miriallia asked, confused.

Julie looked at her like she was an alien. "Yes, Dearka is in the military. He's just training at the moment, though. My, my, what have they told you about my son?"

"His name."

Julie laughed again. "You are such a funny girl! You and Dearka will get along great!"

"I'm telling you Cagalli, the woman is deranged!" Miriallia had excused herself after a breakfast of cold cereal and had locked herself in her new room. The moment she had, she pulled out her cell and called Cagalli.

"I still can't believe you showed up with only the clothes on your back!" With this, Cagalli hooted with laughter.

"Shut up! This is really starting to get on my last nerves. This woman—Julie—is carrying on like she's my mother, or at the very least, by bestest buddy. All I've heard from her all morning is how Dearka and I will get along _great._"

"So is he a fox?" Cagalli asked in a mock-sexy voice.

"I still haven't seen him, and there are no pictures in this mansion."

"Wasn't he there to greet you last night?"

"He was there to see me snoring and drooling all over the limo last night, but he left this morning before I woke up. He's in the army."

"What?"

"I know! If there is a war, he's going to be fighting against us!"

"Calm down, Mir. There won't be a war." Cagalli was trying to reassure herself as much as her friend. Cagalli knew that she had to change the subject. "So what's it like in the PLANTS?"

"Oh my God, horrible," Mir answered. "I flipped on the t.v. earlier, and there was this trivia game show, and they were asking about nuclear physics! And the maid answered the question as she was walking by with a basket of laundry before any of the contestants could beep in."

"Wow," Cagalli answered. "Sorry, Mir, but I have to go. My dad has recruited me to help in the peace campaign, and I have to start getting ready for a luncheon. Keep an eye out for Kira, he lives on Aprilius One, too. Bye."

"Bye," Mir answered just as the phone hung up with a little _click_ on the other end. Mir tossed her phone onto the bedside table and threw herself back against the bed.

"Miriallia!" Julie's soft voice drifted up the stairs, "Could you come down here please?"

With a long-suffering sigh, Miriallia pulled herself off her bed and trudged down the stairs. It took her a few minutes to find the room that Julie was in, but when she got there she stopped in the door and let her jaw drop to the floor.

The cavernous sitting room had been converted into a mini-store. Racks up on racks of clothes were neatly lined up, and shoes were stacked on small portable shelves. An assortment of accessories and handbags stretched across two coffee tables.

Julie emerged from between two racks of formal evening dresses. She gave Miriallia a wide smile and took her by the hand.

"I called your father last night to let him know you arrived safely, and he told me that you were too upset to pack your belongings. So I had my favourite designer bring over a selection of her spring line for you to have. We are going to do a little shopping today, right here at home!"

Perhaps it was because Miriallia was starting to come to terms with her banishment from Heliopolis, or perhaps the sight of thirty pairs of shoes would make any girl melt, but either way, Miriallia could not help but feel a bit cheerful.


	2. Chapter Two: Of Broken Hearts and Heels

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Two: Of Broken Hearts and Heels

"So is she hot?" Rusty shouted from the simulator across the room.

"She's a Natural," Dearka nearly spat. Yzak, who was in the machine next to Dearka's, scowled in agreement.

"A hot chick is a hot chick," Rusty declared. Athrun and Nicol traded uncertain glances.

"Focus!" yelled the supervising instructor.

Once the final training session of the day was done, the elite team made their way to the mess hall.

"Is she as stupid as all the rest of the Naturals?" Yzak asked venomously.

Rusty chuckled, but Nicol was not amused.

"You shouldn't be so negative towards Naturals, Yzak," he began to lecture. "We don't _want _there to be a war, so we should try to learn to accept each other."

"Speak for yourself, kid," Yzak answered harshly.

The five boys got their dinner from the mess hall and sat down at their usual table. Nicol and Athrun immediately started to talk about the lessons they had earlier that day, but Rusty was more interested in Dearka's fiancée.

"So how far did you get?" he asked eagerly, leaning forward.

Dearka rolled his eyes and stuffed a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. "She was asleep," he answered in an annoyed tone through his mouthful of food.

"All the more easy, then, eh?" Rusty began to laugh, but a well aimed portion of potato got him in the eye. "Hey, take it easy, man," Rusty said, wiping the food off of his face.

Yzak turned up one corner of his mouth at his friend. "Just think, Dea, you are going to be hitched at eighteen years old. So much for playing the field."

"There is no way I am going through with this," Dearka answered, slamming his fork down. Nicol and Athrun looked at him.

"But some good may come out of it," Nicol began in his usual cheery voice. "If you married Miss Haww, it would show everyone that Coordinators and Naturals can get along. Just think, it could prevent a war."

"Yeah, right," Dearka retorted. He stood up and stormed out of the mess hall.

Even if most of the shopping is done from a couch, six hours of it is still quite tiring. At the end of the day, Miriallia had tried on almost everything, and decided to keep over half of what was there.

Mir had spent the entire day with Julie, and although she was very, _very _perky, Miriallia was beginning to see how nice of a person she was.

Satisfied that Miriallia had enough to wear, Julie made a valiant attempt at supper, but in the end ordered out. Miri and Julie had a girls' night, watching classic and modern chick flicks over cartons of lemon chicken and egg rolls. Finally, around midnight, the women said their goodnights and headed off to bed.

The next day, Julie showed Miriallia around the house, and in the afternoon, around the garden. The Elthmans owned more land than Miriallia had expected. If you stood at the edge of the garden that was crisscrossed with cobblestone pathways and dotted with benches, the mansion was just a blurry speck in the distance. A huge hedge maze stretched out where the garden ended, and beyond that was a wood lot. It took all day to explore the house and it's grounds, and so when the sun set, Miriallia threw herself down on her bed and fell into a deep sleep immediately.

Miriallia woke up to the sound of the main door downstairs opening. She figured that one of the maids had arrived late, and rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, even though the sun was shining brightly. Mir could hear muffled voices coming from the lobby. She knew one of them was Julie's, but the other, she didn't recognize. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Miriallia pushed the covers down and crawled out of bed. She quietly pried the door open, and began to tiptoe out of her room.

"Well good morning to you, too," a voice whistled behind her.

Miriallia almost jumped out of her skin. She whirled around to find a teenage boy with blond, wavy hair, striking amethyst eyes, and tanned skin staring at her. Or more specifically, staring at her breasts. Miriallia looked down and blushed a deep crimson red. She had forgotten that she was wearing a new pair of pajamas. It was a pink silk set of a very low cut tank top and short shorts. Miriallia looked up, shocked, to see a smirk tugging at the corners of the boy's mouth. Without so much as a word, Miri bolted for her room, slamming and locking the door behind her.

She ran into the bathroom and turned her back to the mirror, trying to twist her head around to see her reflection.

"God dammit," she muttered. Half of her ass was hanging out of her shorts.

"Miriallia darling," Julie chirped, "Come quickly. There are some people here that I would like you to meet."

"Just a minute," Mir called back. She quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes and ran a brush through her hair. She splashed some cold water onto her face to cool down her red-hot face. Miriallia rushed out of the bathroom and slipped her feet into a pair of high heel sandals before rushing down the stairs.

Julie had taken the guests into the sitting room. Miriallia's heels made a clicking noise as she rushed down the wide corridor into the lavish room, stopping as soon as she made it to the doorway.

Inside, Julie was fussing with the tea. On the couch beside her was a tall, dark haired man with dark circles under his eyes. He wore a purple uniform and carried himself like a king. On the sofa across from him sat the blond haired boy who Miriallia had unconsciously given a show to upstairs. He was wearing a red uniform with a silver belt. At the sight of her, the smirk crept back into his face.

Julie stopped fiddling with the tea things long enough to lead Miriallia into the room by the small of her back. She stopped in front of the coffee table, and the two men stood up.

"Miriallia, darling, I would like you to meet my husband Ted," Ted reached out and squeezed Miri's hand with the force that would have made a rock crumble. "And our son, Dearka!" Julie nearly sang the last part, while Dearka looked Mir up and down with an even more pronounced grin plastered on his face.

Julie motioned Mir to sit down beside Dearka. Seeing that she had no other choice, Miriallia obligingly perched herself on the edge of the cushions, as far away from the boy as she could manage. Julie positively beamed, while Ted merely regarded the pair with a type of satisfaction tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Miriallia picked her tea up off of the table and swallowed the entire cupful in one gulp. She had a feeling it would be a long, long day.

After tea had been served and forced conversation had been made, Julie suggested that the pair go for a walk in the garden for a "chat." Dearka had disappeared up the stairs to change into civilian clothes, and Ted had followed suit. Julie was standing with Miriallia at the back door, chattering on about how well Dearka and she had hit it off right away. Julie was nearly shaking with excitement.

Dearka wandered into the kitchen in civilian clothes, his hands buried deep in the pockets. For a moment, a strained look passed over the Coordinator's face, but it quickly disappeared.

"Well," Julie said in a breathy voice, her eyes bright, "I'll just let you two be alone." Julie flitted out of the room like a startled bird.

Miriallia and Dearka stood awkwardly by the door, looking anywhere but at each other. An elderly maid bustled into the room carrying the used tea things on a tray. She caught sight of the awkward teenagers and turned on her heel immediately. Another agonizing moment passed before Dearka cleared his throat.

"Shall we?" he murmured with raised eyebrows, a smirk, and a lingering glance at Miriallia's chest.

Blushing a bright scarlet, Miriallia hurried out the door like the hounds of hell were on her heels. Dearka followed closely, feeling proud of himself for making his "fiancée" uncomfortable for the second time that morning. Mir was walking quickly down the wide brick paved path that cut through the garden. Dearka followed her with an amused smirk.

After fifteen minutes, Miriallia was beginning to huff and puff under the heat of the hot summer sun. Her thin shirt was sticking to her body and her thick hair was matted around her face. She was beginning to regret her choice of footwear; she was wobbling all over the twisting paths. Dearka seemed unaffected.

"How long are you going to keep this up for?" he asked in a mocking tone.

Miriallia plunked herself down on a white bench. Dearka sat down next to her and crossed his legs casually. They sat in silence while Miriallia caught her breath. The young Coordinator's violet eyes wandered across the grounds. They had been a familiar sight during his childhood, but now they seemed distant and foggy, like a dreamland. Dearka's normally bright eyes clouded over and became a misty lavender colour. How the times had changed. Not five years ago, Dearka had romped around the gardens and woods with his childhood friends in a peaceful country. Now he sat beside an enemy that he was being forced to marry. Well, only if he didn't get his way…

Dearka drifted out of Lala-Land when he noticed that Miriallia's breathing had been brought under control. She sat straight and alert (as alert as a Natural could be, Dearka mused) and kept shooting sidelong glances at the blond Coordinator. Suddenly, Dearka got an idea. He took Mir's wrist and stood up. She was very taken aback by the gesture and was pulled along the path a ways before she came to her senses.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she bobbed along behind the young Coordinator, "Where are we going?"

"To the maze," he answered in a matter-of-fact way.

It was only about fifty paces away, and they reached it quickly. The high walls were covered in ivy and towered far above Miriallia's head. Beyond the arched entryway, the path split in two, and the air seemed to have a kind of darkness hanging on to it. The sight sent shivers down Mir's spine.

"Let's go back to the house," she almost whispered. She tried to pull her arm back, but Dearka had a firm grasp on it.

"What's the matter?" he asked in a voice that made it sound like he was talking to a small child, "Scared?"

"No!" Miriallia answered immediately.

"Then don't be such a baby," Dearka retorted in a harsh tone.

"I just don't want to go in, okay?" Mir snapped.

Dearka stared into her big blue eyes for a second before he dropped her hand and said "Fine." Miriallia stumbled back a few paces but managed to stay on her feet. Gently, she massaged her wrist. Dearka took a few paces into the maze without looking back. Miriallia was about to turn and head back into the mansion when she heard Dearka clearly mutter "Naturals," in a venomous tone.

Miriallia's face instantly burnt scarlet. She changed her mind and plunged into the maze.

It only took a moment or two for Miriallia to catch up to Dearka. She stomped up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, wheeling him around with all of her might.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" she began, her face red and her eyes bulging with outrage. Dearka smirked and kept walking. "Hey, come back here!" Miriallia shouted at Dearka's retreating back. When he kept walking, she could do nothing but stomp her foot and storm after him.

"What is wrong with you?" Miriallia continued, nearly jogging to keep up to Dearka's quick pace. "You must really think you are something special, walking around here with your nose in the air and your head up your ass. I've only known you for three hours and but you've already managed to humiliate me." Dearka kept up his pace without looking back or making any sign of acknowledgement to Miriallia, who stopped in her tracks. "I don't want to be here, you know."

"Well I don't want you here," Dearka threw over his shoulder.

Miriallia nearly screamed in frustration. She turned to leave the maze, but she realized that she had no idea where she was. They had taken many twists and turns during their conversation (if you could call it a conversation), and Miriallia had not been paying attention to where Dearka was leading her. Miriallia looked about frantically.

"Which way is out?" she asked, craning her neck in vain trying to see over the twelve-foot walls. No response. She looked around her, but she found herself alone. "Dearka?" she called, but to no avail. Miriallia sighed and walked down the length of the path. A wall lay in front of her, stretching off to the left and right. Both paths were empty.

"Oh, great," Miriallia hissed through gritted teeth. She had the urge to turn around and try to find the way out herself, but her nicer side won out. Sighing one last time, Miriallia took the left hand path.

Dearka looked down at his watch. He and Miriallia had been in the maze for a little over an hour. He knew that Miriallia had not been paying attention to her whereabouts, but that just made ditching her all the more fun. Dearka figured that she was still wandering around somewhere looking for him. She seemed like the type, made of moral fibre and as soft as duckling down, just like Nicol. _Weaklings,_ Dearka thought.

Miriallia stood before a big green door. She figured that she must have been at the farthest edge of the maze, because tree tops stood tall and straight (_Artificial, just like everything else,_ Miriallia thought) above the ivy covered wall. The door seemed strange, out of place. It had a large, tarnished bronze knob with a slit for an old fashioned key in the middle. She rattled the knob back and forth, but it was locked. _I wonder what is past this, _Miriallia pondered as her eyes tried to see over the wall. It couldn't have led out into the woods that were on the edge of the Elthman estate, there would have been no point to that. _Maybe it's like The Secret Garden,_ Miriallia thought as a wave of excitement washed over her. She had loved the book since she was a child and the thought that something similar could be happening to her made her situation seem less hopeless.

Miriallia heard faint footsteps in the distance. She didn't want to look like she was snooping, so she quickly darted into the nearest path leading away from the door in the wall. She took a moment to arrange her face in an "I'm-so-innocent" look before she strolled out into the path, walking straight into Dearka.

"Oof!" they both grunted and Miriallia was bulldozed into the ground. Dearka looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, and then looked down the path. At the door.

"Ow," Miriallia groaned and shifted around so that she was sitting with her legs to one side.

"Are you okay?" Dearka asked, more out of the politeness that his mother had drilled into his head (and which rarely showed itself) than out of actual concern. Miriallia looked down at her white sandal heels. One had snapped during her fall and was barely hanging on the sole. The excitement that she had felt moments before when she had stood in front of the door vanished like smoke in the wind. All of the pain, anger, and helplessness that Miriallia had held inside of her suddenly burst forth in a wave of tears.

"No," she wailed, "I'm not okay." Huge sobs wracked her slim frame, and she tore the shoes from her feet and flung them to the ground. Miriallia pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on her arms and let the tears flow down her face.

As slick as Dearka liked to act, he, like so many males, fell apart in the presence of a crying girl. "They're just shoes," he said uncertainly.

"It's not the shoes," Miriallia sobbed, "It's everything here. It's all yours. I'm stuck in _your _house with _your _family in _your _country. I don't have anything here. These aren't even my shoes! I want to go home. I miss my family, and my friends, my house, and Tolle, and God, even my school! I just want to go home." Miriallia threw her head back down and was wracked by a fresh wave of tears.

Dearka stood awkwardly by Miriallia's crying form. His curiosity getting the better of him, he asked softly, "Who is Tolle?"

Miriallia stopped sobbing and sat still for a few moments. Slowly, she lifted her head, but kept her eyes, which had become a foggy grey, downcast. Tears still silently oozed from the corners of her eyes.

"He is…was my boyfriend," she half whispered, "Back on Earth. He—" Miriallia had to stop to swallow a lump that had risen in her throat. "He died, almost a year ago." She finished. Miriallia was exhausted from crying and silently laid her had down on her arm and her eyes began to droop.

Dearka stood silently in front of the girl. He felt like kicking himself for asking her that. He didn't want to feel any sympathy for her; he was going to try to get of off of PLANTS, after all. Deciding there was nothing else to do, he reached down and picked Miriallia up. She fell asleep after he took a few steps in the direction of the exit. He left the shoes behind.


	3. Chapter Three: A Little Place I Know

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Three: A Little Place I Know

Miriallia awoke in the middle of the night. She was back in her bed with the covers drawn up around her. Miriallia pushed the heavy cover off and turned on her side, trying to fall back asleep, but to no avail. Restlessly, she kicked the sheets of and got out of the bed. She wandered over to the large windows that looked out over the garden, and for the first time noticed that they were in fact glass doors that led to a balcony. Pushing back the light, gauzy curtains, Miriallia unlatched the doors and stepped out barefoot onto the cool stone of the balcony. Stepping up to the rail, the girl leaned over the edge, closing her eyes as a faint, cool wind drifted by. Miriallia opened her eyes again, looking at the maze. The ground was unnaturally flat, and Mir could not see what she was looking for: the locked garden. She had a romanticized vision in her head of a huge space full of clusters of tiny blossoms in bright shades of red, pink, blue, and yellow with old gnarled trees and tiny round bushes, birds singing from their nests and fish swimming in a clear pond.

Getting an idea, Miriallia rushed back into her room and came out again with a pencil and a scrap of paper. Although very little could be seen, the tops of the walls could be distinguished. Miriallia drew a quick sketch of the maze and mapped out the path she would take. Satisfied with her interpretation of the labyrinth, the girl went back into her room to get ready. She put on a light spring jacket to keep the cool night breeze off, and decided to wear flat shoes. She opened the top drawer of the tall dresser to look for a pair of socks. The compartment was very full, housing all articles of undergarments, and Miriallia had to dig around to find a suitable pair. As she was reaching down the side of the drawer, her hand brushed against cold metal. Startled, Miriallia withdrew her hand. Holding it up to the dim light, she could see nothing wrong with it. Steeling her courage, Mir slowly reached back into the drawer until she found the alien object. Miriallia crept closer to the window to catch more of the silvery night time light and opened her fist. Sitting in the middle was something that made her heart stop.

It was a key.

Without stopping to think, Miriallia ran out of her room and hurtled down the stairs, reaching the back door before her eyes could take in the sights. Miriallia flew out the door and across the silent gardens and plunged into to dark maze. She made her way through the twisting paths as quickly as she could without getting lost. Within fifteen minutes, she stood before the back wall, panting slightly, with adrenaline pulsing through her veins.

Miriallia took a nervous step towards the old door, its tarnished doorknob protruding from the smooth surface of the wall. Miriallia's hand trembled as she reached out and slowly slid the key into the slot. It slid in noiselessly, and turned with a small _click._ The door swung open on its hinges.

Miriallia let out a breath that she hadn't even known she was holding in. Beyond the doorway sprawled a tangled of shrubs and flowers that had been left to their own devices for a matter of years. Tall trees stretched up to the dark sky. An old tree house with a rope ladder was suspended in one, and a homemade swing hung down from another's branches. The closed in garden was very large, and in the far corner, Mir could see a fair sized pond reflecting the moon's silver beams. Closing the door tightly behind her, Miriallia wandered into the orchard. She carefully lowered herself into the swing; it creaked loudly in protest, but held strong.

Miriallia let a small smile form around her lips as she tucked the key safely in her pocket. The garden hadn't been touched in years; the Elthmans probably didn't even know where the key had gotten to. She had found a place of her own.

* * *

When the sky had started to lighten, Miriallia decided she had spent as much time as she could in her garden. It had crossed her mind to try to clean it up a little, do a little weeding and pruning, but she quickly decided against it. The mess was a part of the magic.

By the time Miriallia had meandered back to the mansion, the sun was out fully. She let herself in through the back door. She had just closed the glass door behind her when Julie came rushing into the kitchen. She had a worried look on her face which quickly turned to relief when she saw Miriallia.

"Oh, my," she said startled as she clutched at her heart, "Miriallia, dear, you gave me such a scare! I went to wake you up and you weren't in your bed."

Miriallia instantly felt guilty. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk."

Julie seemed to give herself a shake before smiling again. "Oh, it's alright dear, I was just overreacting. Now, get up those stairs and get ready!"

"Ready for what?" Miriallia asked curiously.

"You and Dearka are going out on a date today," Julie said cheerily and began to usher the girl to the main staircase.

"Oh," Miriallia replied. Julie caught the less-than-thrilled note in her voice. She stopping the middle of the hall and gently turned Miriallia to face her.

"Miriallia dear, I know this must be hard for you," she began, "Leaving your home, family, and friends. And I know that yesterday went less than swimmingly; my son can be insensitive at times. But you need to try to understand what is resting on your shoulders, yours and Dearka's. It is, effectively, the weight of the world. If you two can show the world that the gap between Coordinators and Naturals can be bridged, everyone else may be inspired to follow your lead. We may be idealistic in thinking this, but this alliance may go so far as to prevent a war. You both have a duty to your countries and your people."

Miriallia cast her eyes down. She had never thought of it like that before. She had been so caught up in the injustice of it all that she had not thought about anyone but herself. Miriallia suddenly felt embarrassed and childish. She quickly excused herself and went up to her room. She turned on the shower, quickly undressed, and jumped in. She let the water run over her skin, scalding and turning it pink.

* * *

Miriallia was determined to make the best of her situation. Not sure of where Dearka would be taking her, she decided to wear something that could go either way. She put on dark washed jeans and a sating brown tank top trimmed with cream coloured lace, and put a light, off-white spring jacket over it. She decided to go with flat shoes, just to be safe. Finally, when she deemed herself ready, she carefully opened the door and made her way down the stairs.

Dearka was waiting by the door. He was wearing khaki pants and a black button up shirt. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked extremely bored. Miriallia nearly sneaked up on him as he was staring off into space.

"So," she began, making Dearka jump at the noise, "Where are we going?"

"Into town," the blond answered shortly. He opened the door and called over his should "We're leaving," before stepping out the door, leaving Miriallia to follow him. She said goodbye to Julie and Tad and hurried out the door.

She had no sooner got halfway into the car before Dearka took off at a breakneck speed. Terrified, Miriallia scrambled into a sitting position and pulled the safety belt securely around her. "Do you not have speed limits on PLANT?"

"Nope," Dearka replied seriously.

Miriallia spent the fifteen minute ride into the city gripping the door handle so hard that her knuckles turned white. Within no time, Dearka slammed on the breaks and stepped out of the car. Shaking, Miriallia crawled out and heaved a sigh of relief when she found that her feet were in fact on stable land again.

Looking around at her, Miriallia realized that she was in the parking lot of a high rise apartment building. "Where are we?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Come on," Dearka called over his shoulder, walking towards the entrance. Having no other choice, she followed behind him like a lost puppy.

Dearka decided to take the stairs, as opposed to the elevator. Once he reached the eighth floor, he turned down the hall and opened the first door on the right.

Miriallia was right behind him, almost panting; she didn't get much exercise at home. "Where are we?" she asked yet again.

"At my apartment, obviously," Dearka replied sarcastically, sticking his head out the door. "Are you coming or not?"

Miriallia cautiously stepped into the apartment. It was large, but stark and dusty. It looked like it hardly saw any use.

Dearka was standing in the kitchen, digging through the fridge.

"You have your own apartment?" Miriallia asked quietly, standing awkwardly in the entryway.

"Of course I do," he answered, not bothering to look at her, "What kind of loser do you take me for?"

Miriallia pursed her lips. Finding nothing edible in the kitchen, Dearka took a glass out of a cupboard and filled it with tap water. He strolled into the living room and threw himself down unceremoniously on the couch, putting his feet up on the table. Miriallia followed him, but stood uneasily near the edge of the room.

"So…" Miriallia searched for something to say to break the silence. "When are we going back?"

"What? Not having fun?" Dearka asked sarcastically, taking a drink of his water. Miriallia rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, we're going out in an hour or two. I know a little place."

* * *

The "little place" that Dearka had referred to was, in fact, the most popular club in Aprilius One. The dance floor could have easily fit a good sized house in it. Narrow black stair cases led up to a mezzanine. Around the edges of the dance floor small round tables and chairs were scattered.

Miriallia sat at such a table, pushing the lemon around as it floated in her glass of water. She sighed and glanced out at the sea of undulating bodies. Dearka had left her to her own devices the second they had got through the door and headed straight towards a group of very glamorous looking girls and well dressed guys. Miriallia distinctly saw one of the females, a tall blonde, throw a dirty look her way.

It had been over an hour since they had arrived. Miriallia could see Dearka and the blonde grinding on the dance floor from where she sat. She desperately wished she had have run away from home when she had the chance.

"Miri!" a voice called over the loud music.

Startled, Miriallia looked around to see a brunette boy with violet eyes. It was Kira, Cagalli's twin brother, and he was heading straight towards her table. Miriallia felt her spirits lift immediately. Kira gave Miriallia a warm hug and sat down across from her.

"It's been a while," he said.

"Yeah," Miriallia replied. "A lot's changed," she added bitterly.

"Yeah, I heard about that," Kira replied, glancing out at the dance floor, "Is he here?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. So how are things with you?"

* * *

His human emotions getting the better of him, Dearka started to feel bad about abandoning Miriallia. He pried the blonde off of him and made his way through the dancing bodies of the people around him. He finally made it through and began to inch his way along the perimeter of the club, his eyes peeled for a certain brunette.

He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw her. There was a guy at her table. Talking to her. Despite himself, Dearka grew angry. Why was she talking to him? And who was he? Dearka's rage swelled within him when the man sitting across from Miriallia leaned over, brushed something off of her shoulder, and they both laughed. Dearka had had enough. He marched over to the table, turned his back to the mysterious guy and pulled Miriallia up from her seat.

"We're leaving," he said shortly and began to usher Miriallia towards the exit.

"Wait," she said, trying to struggle out of his grip, "Hold on a minute."

"No."

"Let me at least say goodbye to—"

By that time, they were outside the club standing by Dearka's car.

"What the hell is going on?" Miriallia demanded. She was, ahem, _less than happy_ to have been dragged away from a friend who had found her in that hellhole.

Dearka opened the passenger door and said shortly: "Get in."

"No. What is wrong with you?"

"Just get in."

"This is—"

Dearka gave Miriallia a small push, making the girl fall into the passenger seat. He slammed the door and walked around to his side. He got in and gunned the engine. After a lengthy pause, Dearka finally managed to get his throat to work. "Who was he?" he asked, his voice sounding strange.

"I don't see why I should tell you," Miriallia said defiantly, crossing her arms across her chest. Dearka gave her a dangerous stare. "Fine. His name is Kira, he's my best friend's twin brother. Happy?"

Dearka didn't say anything. Once they reached the apartment building, Dearka silently grabbed Miriallia's arm and began to drag her up to his suite.

"I can walk myself, thank you very much," Miriallia spat, pulling her arm out of his grasp. She muttered something under her breath that distinctly contained the word "violent." Once they reached the apartment, Dearka pointed to a door and threw himself on the couch, refusing to get up. Miriallia went through the door to find a large, bare bedroom. She silently slid her shoes off and crawled into bed.


	4. Chapter Four: The Belle of the Ball

A/N: Ahhhhhhhhh, I stayed up late last night finishing this, but then the website wouldn't load! Now I'm all tired and up early, so you people had better enjoy this shakes fist. lol.

But seriously, sorry for being such a slacker. (I haven't updated any of my stories since March 21st; eep.)**

* * *

**

Marriage Material

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Four: The Belle of the Ball

The next day, Dearka and Miriallia drove back to the Ethman estate in silence. Miriallia would have turned on the radio, but the steely look in Dearka's eyes kept her from moving. It was a very awkward ride.

When they arrived back at the mansion, neither said a word to the other nor brought their eyes up to meet. Dearka was the first through the door, and he went straight up the stairs. Miriallia, thinking it was rude to merely walk in and not announce their return, went to look for Julie. She was sitting in the living room with a slender middle aged man that Miriallia had never met before. Upon seeing her in the doorway, Julie waved Miriallia in and introduced her guest.

"Miriallia dear, this is Geoffrey Beasser, he's here to design the setting for our little get together tonight."

"Get together?" Miriallia squeaked.

"Yes," Julie cooed, "We thought it would be nice to have a formal introduction for you. After all, you are practically one of the family."

Miriallia felt her stomach flutter. A formal introduction? "How many people will be coming?" she asked, a slight waver in her voice.

"Oh, just some friends, a few cousins, and the council, of course. Just a small gathering."

Suddenly, Miriallia's eyes lit up. "Could I invite a friend?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh, you've made friends already? Well, certainly, you can invite whomever you like. Now run along upstairs; I've laid out your dress on the bed."

Feeling much better, Miriallia scurried up the stairs and picked up the phone, hurriedly dialling Cagalli's number.

* * *

Miriallia put the telephone down on its cradle. She had just called Kira to invite him to the party after getting his number from his sister. No sooner had Miriallia moved to look more closely at her dress than the door swung open, Dearka standing in the frame, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"What do you want?" Miriallia demanded.

"You can't invite _him_," Dearka spat.

"I already did," Miriallia countered smugly, raising her chin haughtily.

Dearka's face turned red with anger. "You are going to regret this," he muttered viciously.

"Are you threatening me?" Miriallia asked in a mock-frightened voice.

Dearka narrowed his eyes at the girl standing before him. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"That exchange was pointless," Miriallia said to her empty room as she strolled into the washroom to clean up for the party.

* * *

A small gathering, indeed. Miriallia stood at the top of the stairs, feeling a little nauseous. The decorator had turned the mansion into a palace, with delicate bundles of flowers displayed on every flat surface and along the banisters. White banners had been run along the walls and a PLANT flag was displayed in each room. The huge foyer was in chaos, with people pouring in by the second, handing off their coats and hats to servants who took them away to the cloakroom. 

Everyone was dressed to the nines, the women in long ball gowns and the men in tuxedos or uniforms. Every person Miriallia looked at was beautiful, confident, and sophisticated. She couldn't help but feel inadequate. Not to say that she was wearing rags; quite the opposite. Julie had seen to it that her guest had an exquisite dress to wear. It was a light bluish-purple and made of delicate layers of chiffon over the finest silk. The skirt was wide and seemed to float above the ground elegantly. A rouged length fabric wrapped around her shoulders and came to a dainty point at the front, showing the faintest hint of a swell of breasts. Long white gloves fitted perfectly along Miriallia's thin arms and stopped just above the elbow. But Miriallia couldn't help thinking that no matter how beautiful the dress, it couldn't distract you from the knowledge that everyone in the room was more intelligent than she was.

Miriallia braced herself and was about to take the first step down the stairs when an arm appeared beside her. Dearka had come out of nowhere, his curly hair combed back and in a clean, pressed red uniform, and was offering to help. Miriallia was torn between her instinct to ignore Dearka's existence and her will to not trip over the hem of her dress and embarrass herself in front of dozens of strangers. She reluctantly looped her arm through his.

"We need to keep up appearances," Dearka muttered, a dissatisfied twist about his mouth. Miriallia sighed but didn't say anything. The two made their way down the main stairs without event. When they reached the bottom Dearka tugged Miriallia through the crowd into the sitting room. The furniture had been moved to the fringes of the room and little groups of people stood together, sipping champagne and chatting.

Dearka led the two of them up to one of the groups and pecked a woman on the cheek. "Good evening mother," he said. Miriallia did a double take; she didn't even recognize Julie.

"Hello, darling," she replied, "Hello, dear," she said to Miriallia who muttered a small "hello." Julie introduced her friends to her "soon-to-be daughter-in-law" (Miriallia had to force a smile) and included the newcomers into the small talk, Dearka falling in easily. Miriallia was awed; she never knew that he could be so charming.

After listening to them talk about the rain schedule for Aprilius One, the Natural girl's mind began to wander elsewhere and she found herself craning her neck, trying to watch the crowds of new arrivals who were still pouring in for any sign of Kira. Dearka couldn't help but watch enviously out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, I think you two have humoured us long enough," Julie announced, "Maybe you should look for some company your own age. Dearka, why don't you introduce Miriallia to the other boys in your squad?"

Miriallia looked up at Dearka, who blanched noticeably. "I don't think she'll want to meet them," he muttered.

"Oh, don't be silly!" Mir exclaimed, clutching his arm tighter, "I'd _love_ to me them! Won't you introduce me?" Miriallia pouted in a child-like way, making her eyes as large as they would go.

"Now look, she's excited," Julie declared, "Go introduce her!"

The cogs and wheels were working furiously within the blond head, trying to figure out some way to get himself out of the predicament. His mother and his fiancée were grinning at him like grotesquely humanoid jack-o-lanterns. Nothing came to him.

Dearka sighed and pulled Miriallia out of the room back into the foyer. The second they were out of sight of the room, Dearka pulled the girl around to face him.

"Look," he said seriously, "I don't know what you are planning to do, but you _can't_ humiliate me in front of my comrades."

Miriallia felt hot, bubbling blood rise to her face in indignation. "Humiliate you?" she repeated.

"Just don't say anything," Dearka commanded. He took Miriallia's arm and looped it through his own once more and took off towards another room.

Miriallia was so filled with offence that she could only allow herself to be tugged along like a child once more.

Dearka craned his neck to peer over the crowd as he made a pathway through the bodies, keeping a lookout for the telltale signs of his team mates. He found them all too soon for his liking, and was forced to bite the bullet and get the introductions done with sooner rather than later. Dearka held his head up and marched straight towards his comrades, standing together in the dining room, currently devoid of furniture.

"Good evening, Dearka," a boy with green hair greeted cheerily after spotting the blond first. The other three boys said their hellos as they shifted to allow the two newcomers into their circle.

"Hey," Dearka replied in a drawn out voice. He instantly dropped his companion's arm and stood as far away from her as he could manage. "Everyone, this is my…" he seemed to have some trouble saying the word "_fiancée_, Miriallia. Mir, this is Rusty MacKenzie, Athrun Zala, Nicol Amalfi, and Yzak Jule."

"Hi," Miriallia murmured, doing her best at avoiding eye contact.

The four soldiers said hello politely and continued on with the conversation that they were having before about training. Miriallia kept her eyes on the hem of her dress, fidgeting her feet and twisting her fingers. Half of what the boys were saying, drill names, ranking, combat formation, operating systems, was so far beyond Miriallia's comprehension that she felt her head spinning, silently trying to keep up. She began to fidget so much that Nicol had noticed.

"Are you alright, Miss Miriallia?" he asked, polite concern in his eyes.

It was probably the worst thing he could have done. Suddenly, Miriallia was the focus of the attention within the group. Five sets of eyes were now on her, looking her up and down. The one named Yzak had a superior look upon his face, looking as though her nervousness was a sign that she was a stupid, weak Natural girl, and Rusty seemed to be looking south of her face.

Miriallia tried to laugh casually, but it came out as a dry, forced cackle. "I think I need some fresh air," she said, beginning to back away, "Excuse me." She turned on the heel of her perfectly dyed shoes and went as fast as she could without running. She passed a server with a tray of champagne and snatched a flute. She downed the glass in one gulp, choking on the bubbles. Too bad they didn't have any stronger alcohol.

Along the way, Mir was in such a rush that she stepped on another girl's foot. She apologized quickly and pressed on, but as she went she heard the girl say to her friend _"Naturals."_

She went to the kitchen, the only place that was not full of guests, and set her glass down on the countertop. Her hand was on the handle of the glass door that led outside when she heard her name being called.

It was Kira, jogging to catch up with her.

"I've been looking for you for the past half hour," he said with a smile on his face, "It's really crowded here, isn't it?"

Mir nodded her head. They stood in silence for a moment, until Miriallia's face crumpled with tears and she latched herself around Kira's middle. Taken off guard, and almost off balance, it took a moment for Kira to react and wrap his arms reassuringly around the girl's slight frame.

"Everyone hates me," Miriallia cried into Kira's chest, "They all think I'm an idiot."

"Don't say that Milly," Kira said softly, "No one thinks anything of the sort."

Miriallia kept sobbing until Kira led them outside and onto a bench.

"Look, Mir," Kira said, "The garden is all lit up."

Miriallia turned her head and looked. Small, white lights were hung in the bushes and laid out along the edges of the paths. They swayed gently with each gust of the cool night breeze. Miriallia watched them, her head rising and falling on Kira's shoulder with every breath he took.

Once Miriallia's breath had returned to normal, Kira shifted his weight. Mir lifted her head up and faced Kira. The boy pulled a small linen square out of his tux pocket and began to softly dab at Miriallia's face.

"Your make-up is running," he explained, "I have to leave soon; I have another engagement that I can't break. But you have my number, right? Call me anytime you need me, okay?"

Miriallia nodded. "Thank you," she managed to croak.

"What are friends for?" Kira asked cheerily. He looked down at his watch and stood up. "I need to get going. Take care, alright? Make sure you call me." He leaned down and kissed Mir on the forehead. "Here, keep this," he said, handing the handkerchief to her.

Kira said goodbye and disappeared around the side of the house. Miriallia sat by herself for a while, vaguely blotting her face with the cloth. Her head was pounding and her eyes felt heavy.

Without thinking, Mir rose to her feet and began to walk along the paths. Before she knew it she was standing before the door at the back of the maze. There was a small clump of dirt that had been dug up recently. Mir crouched down and brushed away the top layer. She had buried the key there so that she wouldn't have to worry about carrying it. Miriallia unlocked the door and closed it tightly behind her, locking it. She walked over to the swing and sat down. The rope creaked and groaned but the sounds were soon lost in the growing wind. Mir rested her head against the old rope.

"What are you doing here?"


	5. Chapter Five: An Unlikely Friend

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Five: An Unlikely Friend

"What are you doing here?"

Miriallia screamed and fell off the swing.

"Shit, you don't have to scream," the voice muttered, "Typical." The person, a young male, walked up beside the fallen girl and looked down at her. Miriallia could sense that he was torn, most likely between watching the Natural squirm in the dirt or doing what his mommy taught him. In the faint moonlight Miriallia could make out the same long, red jacket as Dearka wore and the effeminate boots. The pale light reflected shimmering silver hair. She couldn't remember for the life of her what his name was. A bit reluctantly, he held out his hand and helped Miriallia up.

"Thanks," she muttered, trying to grasp the shreds of her dignity while brushing dirt and old leaves off her bottom.

The two stood in silence for an awkward moment. Miriallia was trying to remember the boy's name. All that came to her mind was the scowl that he had been wearing inside the mansion. She had the sneaking suspicion he was doing it again.

"How did you get in here?" the boy barked. Miriallia was wondering what she had done to make him so angry.

"I have the key," she replied in a small voice. He had an intimidating presence and she couldn't help but take a step back. "And I live here now." She decided to put on a brave front and demanded, "How did _you_ get in here?"

"I climbed over the wall," he replied smugly, "Figures that you would have to take the easy way. Naturals."

Miriallia's lips flattened into a thin, angry line. She had had her fill of laying down for a while.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are," she began, shaking with suppressed rage, "But I'm not going to take any of your bull. I've heard enough passes and gotten enough superior acts, and from now on I am demanding respect, starting with you."

The boy looked Miriallia, panting a little from her short but intense tirade, up and down. His eyebrow twitched. He let out a single peal of laughter. It wasn't often that some one had the courage to talk back to him. He was impressed. He would never admit it, of course.

"Yzak Joule," he said, holding his hand out, "ZAFT elite. Remember my name this time."

"Miriallia Haww," she shook his hand, "Heliopolous High graduate. You'd like me if you got to know me." Little did she know that Yzak did not like anybody. Outside of his mother and Dearka.

Miriallia sat back down on the swing, listening to the creaking of the old rope for a few minutes.

"That rope hasn't been replaced for years," Yzak said offhandedly, "It's not very safe."

"Worried so suddenly?" Miriallia asked cheekily. Yzak scowled. "How would you know that, anyway?"

"This was Dearka's garden," Yzak answered, his voice still retaining its sharp, metal-like quality. The two of them cut a picturesque profile with Miriallia sitting like a child on the swing and Yzak standing formally straight. "His parents had the maze erected and this place built for his seventh birthday while we were away at school. It took him a week to get to the door. He dragged me along and we had to camp out in a tent. The maids had to call his walkie talkie and find out where he was to bring out our meals. We used to play here all the time."

Miriallia's head was spinning. It was Dearka's garden? So he must have figured out that she had discovered the door when he found her nearby. It was obvious why he had not said anything to her; they weren't exactly on the friendliest of terms. What about the key? Had he lost it in the guest room when he was a child, or maybe hidden it and forgotten where it was? It seemed rather strange.

"How did you get the key?" Yzak asked suddenly.

"What?" Miriallia asked, jolted out of her thoughts.

"The key, for the door."

"Oh," Miriallia breathed and looked down at her lap, "I found it."

Yzak's brows contracted. "Where?"

"In a drawer in my room," she replied, "Why?"

"What drawer?" he pressed on.

Miriallia was sure that he could see how red she was in the dim moonlight as she answered, "Just a drawer."

Yzak nodded in understanding and quickly asked if she was going to clean the place up at all. Miriallia looked a little miffed and replied that she had already started. Her lips went flat again when he remarked that it didn't look like she had.

He wasn't so bad, if one overlooked the fact that he was an ass. He had stopped the personal attacks, which Miriallia took to be a good sign.

* * *

Miriallia slowly drifted back into the waking world when a cold mist fell on her face. She stirred and immediately felt a painful crick in her neck. She groaned and rubbed the offending area as she opened her eyes. She looked around at her surroundings and closed her eyes again, muttering, "Dammit." She gave herself a few moments to gather her wits and then sat up.

"Hey," she said none-too-softly as she jabbed Yzak in the ribs. At some point during their conversation Miriallia had gotten off of the swing and sat on the ground, the elite soldier joining her. They had fallen asleep in the overgrown grass. It was still dark.

Yzak groaned and sat up. "What?" he snapped. He had taken his jacket off earlier and offered it to Miriallia who was shivering in her fashionable dress.

"What time is it?" Miriallia asked as she tried to stifle a yawn.

Yzak looked down at his wristwatch but had to squint his eyes to make out the luminous hands through his sleep-glazed eyes. "Three forty," he announced and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

"Shit," Miriallia said.

"Shit," Yzak agreed.

* * *

The two slouched their way back to the house. Dearka was standing at the back door, his collar unbuttoned and his hair looking more unruly than usual. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. He didn't say a word, but merely watched as Miriallia slid the ZAFT jacket off of her shoulders and handed it to its rightful owner. She thanked him and went into the house without giving her fiancé a second glance.

Yzak put his jacket on but didn't do it up. Dearka was boring a hole into the side of his head.

"You need to make up your mind," Yzak seriously to his friend. Dearka's lips pursed together and he ground his teeth.

* * *

A/N: Wow, that's my shortest one yet! To make up for the lack of substance, I have decided to let you all know the title for the next chapter. Chapter six shall be called "The Lighting Makes Him Look Human." I bet you can't wait for that!

Thank you to the one person who guessed who the person in the garden was! Even though you were dead wrong, I love you anyway :P. I love you all, of course.

Please review!


	6. Chapter Six: The Lighting

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Six: The Lighting Makes Him Look Human

Miriallia rolled out of bed around noon. At first, she tried to block out the midday light with her covers but sleep would not come to her. She slumped out of bed and grabbed some clothes from her drawers. It was a good thing everything more or less matched, because she didn't even look at what she took. She stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick shower. She went downstairs with wet hair.

On her way to kitchen, one of the maids made a small curtsy and asked if she would like any lunch prepared. Miriallia declined and said she would make herself something.

The kitchen was silent and devoid of activity. Miriallia rummaged through a few cupboards before finding a box of cereal. She poured herself a bowl and sprinkled a few spoonfuls of sugar on it. She didn't like milk in her cereal. She munched on a few bites on her way to the dining room.

Dearka and Yzak were already sitting across the table from one another, crouched low over half eaten omelettes. Miriallia stopped and looked from one to the other.

"Why are you still here?" she asked Yzak, surprise evident in her voice. Both boys scowled. "I didn't mean—"

"We know what you meant," Yzak cut her off, stuffing a piece of omelette in his mouth and barely chewed. "We have some time off and my mother is in Martus One for a while. I'd rather stay with this idiot than be isolated for a week."

"Oh," Mir mouthed and sat down at the head of the long table, between the two. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes, interrupted only by the sounds of chewing. Yzak leaned over to peer into Miriallia's bowl and scrunched up his nose in disgust. "It's better this way," she explained. The brunette immersed herself with her cereal and missed the glance between the two guys.

"So," Dearka cleared his throat nervously, "Miriallia, are you doing anything today?"

Mir didn't look up. "Well, me and all my friends were gonna go gatecrash a cocktail party, but that's totally reschedule-able. Of course I don't have any plans."

Dearka looked like he had a smart comeback but a hefty kick caught him in the shin before it could come out. Miriallia looked between the two oddly.

Dearka cleared his throat again. "What I meant was," he ran his hand through his hair and tried not to look at the girl, "Do you want to go into the city and do something today?"

Mir's spider sense tingled. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

Dearka slouched down in his chair and crossed his arms. "Well, if you don't want to go…" He was again straightened out by a swift kick. "I mean," he tried again, retreating his legs to the safety of the chair legs, "I just thought it would be nice or something." Yzak looked like he was ready to reach across the table and smack his stupid friend.

Miriallia thought about it and decided she had no way out. "Sure," she said unenthusiastically.

* * *

"He is up to something Cagalli," Miriallia whispered into her phone.

"Maybe he's just trying to be nice," her friend answered back irately.

"He wouldn't do that," Miriallia continued to speak quietly into her cell, "Niceness isn't in his nature. He must be plotting something. Maybe public humiliation, or a hit."

"You are starting to sound like a crazy person," Cagalli said warningly.

"I can't help it," Miriallia peeked around the corner to make sure Dearka hadn't somehow sneaked into her room's entrance.

"Mir, listen to me," Cagalli tried to reason with her friend, "There is nothing complex going on. He's a guy. Men can barely muster up the brain power to communicate what is really on their minds, let alone have a secret agenda that they don't tell women about."

There was a loud pounding on the door. "Let's go," Dearka shouted from the other side, "How long does it take to get ready? Women." Miriallia could almost hear him shaking his head.

"I have to go," Mir whispered into the phone quieter than before, "Miss Boots is on my case."

"Please tell me that's not our code name for him," Cagalli pleaded.

"Bye," Miriallia hung up the phone. She grabbed her purse and jacket and opened the door.

Dearka was leaning against the opposite wall impatiently. He stood up properly and frowned at the girl.

"Why did that take so long? You're wearing the same thing as before."

"I am not," Miriallia huffed, "I changed my shoes."

Dearka rolled his eyes and began his descent of the stairs. Miriallia reluctantly closed her bedroom door behind her and followed him.

Yzak was at the door to see them off. He gave Dearka a meaningful glare (heavy on the mean) and was about to shut the door behind the couple when Miriallia turned around.

"Are you going to be here all alone?" she asked. Ted had gone off on some official business and Julie had gone out for lunch and a matinee with some of her girlfriends.

Yzak scowled and slammed the door in the girl's face.

"What's his problem?" she asked to the artificial sky.

"Believe it or not, that's one of his good moods," Dearka answered in its place.

"Really?" Miriallia, forgetting her apprehensions about Dearka's possibly shady intentions, caught up with him. "He doesn't seem so bad. He was mostly nice last night." Dearka clenched his jaw but said nothing.

They had reached the car. Miriallia reached for the handle on the passenger side door but was beaten to it. Dearka opened the door for her and did his best not to look at the girl. His face was red. Miriallia looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he was already beginning his dubious plot, and cautious got into the car. The door closed harmlessly once she was in. Dearka went around to his side. Miriallia quickly strapped herself in as Dearka tore out of the driveway like the maniac that he inadvertently was.

Once Miriallia adjusted to the G-force, she turned her head a little to look at the blond Coordinator. He looked nervous.

"Where are we going?" she yapped quickly.

Dearka, who had been concentrating on something else, jumped and swerved. He quickly corrected and got back in his lane. He looked over at the girl seriously and said, "Don't do that." Miriallia nodded dumbly. "I didn't plan anything for today," Dearka admitted, keeping his eyes firmly on the empty road, "Where do you want to go?"

"How about there?" she said excitedly, her nose practically pressed against the window.

Dearka pulled a face worthy of a disgruntled two-year-old. "A museum?" he asked, wrinkling up his nose.

Miriallia sat properly in her seat. "Well, if you don't want to go…" she mumbled and looked down.

Dearka looked up to the heavens with a longsuffering sigh and turned into the parking lot at the last second.

"Yay," Miriallia said calmly and got out of the car.

* * *

"Don't you like art?" Miriallia asked, almost rhetorically, as Dearka slouched after her to the next painting.

"Not particularly," he answered as he rubbed his eyes. It had been almost two hours. How could she still be interested?

"I didn't pick here to torture you, you know," Miriallia commented dryly, "I picked it because I happen to like art."

"That's, uh, comforting?" Dearka wheezed, "Do you want to go get some food now? I'm going to die."

"Some Coordinator," Miriallia sniffed and then chuckled. She grabbed the supposedly dying boy's arm and began to escort him to the exit. "You know, Elthman," she began in a much lighter tone, "I've come to the decision that you're not all that bad."

Normally that would warrant such a sarcastic response from the elite soldier as "How very kind of you," but instead he chose to keep quiet and let her continue. Things seemed to be looking up for Dearka Elthman.

Or so he thought.

"And I have also come to the decision that we need to start working together to work this out."

It sounded too good to be true.

"We need to work together to make sure that this marriage is off, or else we wont have any choice but to go through with it."

And it was.

"Huh?" was all that the boy could muster.

They were almost at the front door of the museum. Miriallia stopped in front of a grotesque contemporary piece. She looked Dearka straight in the eye and held out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Dearka looked from the offered hand to the triumphant face of the girl before him. This wasn't part of the plan. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Miriallia that he suddenly decided he really did want to marry her? He doubted if that would fly. He was running out of time; she was looking at him oddly.

"What's the problem?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," the blond said quickly. He shook the girl's hand firmly. "You've got yourself a deal."

"Excellent," Mir exclaimed. She took his arm again and led him out towards his car. "Let's discuss tactics over some fast food. I'd kill for some fries."

* * *

"Dumbass!" Yzak berated, "That wasn't part of the plan at all!"

Dearka lay on his bed, his pillow over his face. He pulled it back to look at his friend miserably. "I couldn't help it," he whined like a child, "I was stuck in some godforsaken, musty building with all these weird distorted, contemporary faces staring down at me. I was going crazy."

"Normally, I would tell you to fix your mess on your own," Yzak continued to storm about, "But if I'm not the brains behind this operation, you are going to fuck it up royally, and I'm going to be stuck listening to you bitch and moan for the next five years."

"Why are you such a potty mouth?" Dearka asked quietly.

"Why are you such a moron?" Yzak yelled back.

* * *

A/N: That's right, who updated? I did, biznatches! Booyah!

As an additional treat, I will, once again, divulge the title of the next chapter. It is called "Baby Makes Three." Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! How on PLANTS did this happen?

Hopefully it wont take me another six months to update ;). Review if you want the time to be shorter!

(I wouldn't actually do that to you guys (again), but seriously, review!)


	7. Chapter Seven: Baby Makes Three

A/N: I liiiiiiiiive! More importantly to you, the story lives. Sorry that it has been *gulp* years since I last updated. I just lost the will to write fan fiction, but tonight I realized how very much I have missed it. This isn't my most popular story by far, but it's my favourite so I've decided to keep working on this. I might get another chapter up before November, but most likely not. I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year, so I won't be updating again until December. I fully intend to finish this off though. As penance for making you good people wait so long, I bring you this near-2000 word chapter. Enjoy!

**Marriage Material**

A Dearka-Miriallia Story

Chapter Seven: Baby Makes Three

"Obviously you can't just tell her you want to go through with it," Yzak said. "You need to win her over gradually, which means we have to stall her plans to stall the wedding. We need to buy the maximum amount of time possible."

"But what if she never likes me?" Dearka said, sitting up in his bed. "I was such an ass when she first arrived."

"Well you should have thought of that before," Yzak retorted.

"I didn't know that I would fall for her," Dearka said sullenly. He leaned back against the small mountain of pillows and stared up at the unmarred expanse of ceiling.

"At least you got in on her scheming," Yzak said, standing at the window and glaring out with squinted eyes. "Has she come up with any plans yet?"

"No," Dearka said. "We don't know what our parents are arranging. They could announce the wedding is next week or next year for all we know. Right now they are just giving us some time. If I could just..."

"Just what?"

Dearka sighed, a low, tormented sound. "If I could just make her like me enough to go through with it. Then the rest would just happen naturally."

"We can't be sure with these Naturals though," said Yzak. "They don't have as many arranged marriages as we do."

"It worked for my parents," Dearka said. "And they've been together forever."

"It's a long way to the altar, though," Yzak said.

"This is great," Miriallia squealed into the phone. "There's no way that they can make us get married if we're both working against it."

"If you say so," Cagalli sighed.

"What's with the tone?"

"It's no wonder you've been so miserable, with an attitude like this," Cagalli said. "You're letting this talk of marriage completely eclipse who you are."

"The reason that I'm miserable and my attitude is so bad is because this marriage stuff is in my face every day," Miriallia snipped into the phone. "What are you saying, that I should just go through with this?"

"Milly, stop being such a victim," Cagalli chided. "You need to start being proactive. And besides, this may not turn out as bad as you think. If you really don't want to get married from him no one can force you to. But good relationships between Naturals and Coordinators are important to keeping the peace. Even if you don't stay on PLANTS you should try to make a good impression."

Miriallia's voice was growing higher with each frustrating second. Paced from her window to her bed and eventually turned around and collapsed into the fluffy duvet, bouncing twice on the new mattress. "You don't know what it feels like, Cagalli. I'm here all alone with a bunch of strangers. And even if I walk out on this wedding I still have to put up with all of this preparation and then my parents when I walk out."

There was a long pause when neither girl spoke. At last, Cagalli said, "You're never as alone as you think you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Cagalli said, suddenly sounding tired. "Look Mir, it's really late here. I should get going."

They hung up and Miriallia threw her phone on the bed beside her. Her best friend had been no help at all. She had never felt so alone before. Gritting her teeth and getting on with this ridiculous predicament would do nothing to make it better, she knew, but no one else seemed to think so. Of course it was easy for them; all they had to do was dress up and go to that one wedding. But the rest of Miriallia's life hinged upon these decisions.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Miriallia got up and opened it to find Dearka standing there, alone, squeezing his hands in and out of fists.

"What is it?" she asked, keeping the door open only enough for her body to fit in the gap.

"I was just thinking...that, um," Dearka began, his eyes darting around everywhere except at the girl in front of him.

"Thinking what?" Miriallia sounded more irritated than she intended, but being snubbed by a best friend had that affect upon people.

"I was going to make something," Dearka said, much to quickly for the words to be distinguished from one another. "Are you hungry? I could make you something."

The girl's brows contracted slightly. What was wrong with him? He had never acted like this before.

"No, thanks," she said.

"Oh," Dearka said, a suspicious hint of defeat in his voice. "Well maybe tomorrow."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Well, goodnight, I guess," he finished awkwardly and retreated from the door. Miriallia shrugged her shoulders and closed the door after him.

"Smooth," came Yzak's sarcastic comment.

"Dude, she didn't want anything," Dearka said. They shut themselves in the guest room that Yzak was staying in. It was different shades of yellow, far too cheery for the temperament of its tenant.

Yzak cradled his forehead in his hand. "It wasn't about feeding her, moron. You were supposed to engage her in conversation. Some ladies' man you turned out to be. Since when have you been awkward around girls?"

"I've never liked a girl like this before," Dearka said, feeling stupid as soon as it came out. He looked at Yzak, ready for the taunting to begin.

"Probably because she didn't get in bed right away like your regulars do," Yzak said, a hint of distaste in his voice. "Has it occurred to you that you haven't got bored of her yet and that's why you're acting like this?"

"No," Dearka said, his voice hard. "That's not true."

Julie had a surprise for the teenagers at breakfast the next morning.

"My friend Cassendra and I are going out today and I volunteered you to look after her son," she announced at the table.

"What?" Dearka groaned. He slumped down in his chair and threw his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter.

"How old is he?" Miriallia asked.

"Eighteen months," Julie chimed, positively beaming.

"A baby?" Dearka whined.

"A toddler, actually," Miriallia corrected.

Dearka rolled his eyes but stopped halfway when Yzak's boot caught him under the table.

"Cassendra will be over soon," Julie said and flitted out of the room to get made up.

The three crunched away on their cereal for a few moments before Miriallia spoke up. "This could be fun," she said. "Someone to liven things up."

"Such a pain," Dearka said and then grunted with another kick.

"I'm going to shower before they get here," Miriallia said and took her bowl out of the dining room.

"What are you doing?" Yzak hissed at his friend.

"What are _you_ doing?" Dearka winced, rubbing the welt on his shin.

"Stop being so thick-headed and think about this," Yzak commanded. "What do girls love?"

"Um..." Dearka stumbled, only absently massaging his wound. "Jewellery, clothes, expensive cars...?"

"Kids, you moron." Yzak seemed to be making a habit of rubbing his temples. "They like kids. More importantly, they like guys who like kids. Stupid fantasies about have babies and good fathers and crap like that."

"Dude, where do you get this stuff from?"

Yzak narrowed his eyes. "I have my sources," he said simply. "If you can impress Miriallia by showing that you are good with kids—"

"Then I'll score a ton of points!" Dearka finished, a triumphant smile on his face. It dropped just as quickly as it appeared. "But I can't stand kids."

When Miriallia was ready she went down the stairs to find Dearka and Julie standing at the door with a tall woman holding a toddler.

Julie waved Miriallia over and introduced her. "Miriallia, dear, this is my friend Cassendra and her son Octavian. Cassendra, this is Dearka's fiancée."

Miriallia shook hands with the woman, her grip unusually hard. Miriallia pulled away as quickly as she could and massaged her knuckles discretely.

"Well, shall we be off?" Julie said.

With much fussing and kissing Octavian goodbye, the two women left the boy in Miriallia's arms, shutting the door with an eerie sound of silence.

"Hey little guy," Dearka said to the kid, bending down to his level. The toddler started to cry. Yzak raised an eyebrow behind Miriallia's back. Dearka shrugged. "So, what do we do with him now?" he asked Miriallia.

"I don't know," she replied. A lock of her hair was twisted about in the child's pudgy fist as he wailed. She winced and tried to ease her hair away from his grip. "We could take him outside, I guess."

Yzak opened the front door.

"Where are you going?" Dearka asked, panicing.

Yzak snorted. "Like I'm going to stay here. I hate kids." The door closed and a car engine revved a few seconds later.

Miriallia frowned. "Kids aren't that bad," she said and started towards the back door.

"I love kids," Dearka called after her.

The sun did little for Octavian's disposition. He screamed and threw the toys that his mother had left in his diaper bag around the yard.

Dearka picked up a plush giraffe and took it back to where Miriallia sat on the grass, foiling Octavian's attempts to crawl away. "This kid should play baseball with a throw like that," he said. He knelt down and waggled the toy in front of the boy's face. The child reach up to take the animal and Dearka smiled triumphantly at Miriallia. The giraffe pinged off of his head.

Miriallia laughed. "I don't know how you can have so much patience," she said. "I don't know if I'm going to last with this kid."

Dearka left the toy up for dead and sat beside Miriallia. "He's a brat, isn't he?" He extended his foot to block Octavian's latest escape route.

"At least we are alone now," Miriallia said. "Relatively, anyway." Dearka didn't look up; she didn't mean what he wished she did. "I've been thinking about ways to get out of this marriage thing without putting a bad face on it."

Dearka grunted in response. A part of him had hoped that if he didn't mention it, Miriallia would forget. Of course she wouldn't. He couldn't just blow her off though; it might make her suspicious. "What were you thinking?" he asked, picking at the grass at his feet.

"We can't make it seem like the engagement was called off because we didn't get along," Miriallia said, staring up at the artificial clouds as she spoke. "That's supposedly the point of this whole travesty. Cooperation. I was thinking, what if we go along for a while, but play the _just friends_ card?"

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, we'll make public appearances, be seen and all that, but we'll act like best friends. After a while we'll announce the end of our engagement because we're too much like brother and sister to ever marry each other. What do you think?"

"I think it might just work," Dearka said slowly, staring up at the sky as well. It just might work. A couple of months of being friends with her could change her mind about him. What did he need Yzak for? There was no way that sourpuss could have orchestrated something as perfect as this.

Octavian crawled up to Dearka, using his shoulders as leverage. "What's wrong, kid?" he asked. Octavian opened his mouth and vomited on the blond Coordinator. "Oh, my God," Dearka gagged.


End file.
